The Gathering
by SonRyu
Summary: Duncan had done his job well. Several potential candidates were gathered to combat The Blight. Join our heroes as they confront their demons, and fight the future of us all. A multi-warden novelizatoin
1. Red Wedding

**I love doing these every time I attempt to write something. I do not own Dragon Age. It is the property of BioWare and EA (ugh). With Inquisition coming out soon, I wanted to catch up on my favorite Warden, so here we go!**

**Red Wedding**

Domenic Tabris was angry. No, not angry. Anger was just a few steps above annoyance. Domenic was pissed. Everything he had, everything he was, was taken from him by the shemlen. The long, thin vertical scar running down his right eye burned as he looked down on the scurrying humans, running along the dust and cobble covered roads of Denerim. The burning intensified as he looked at the back of the Grey Warden riding ahead of him. Hate burned just beneath cold ebony eyes as he stared at the older man. Duncan, Hahren Valendrian had called him. The old human's dark beard had streaks of grey, giving him a distinguished look. The wrinkle lines weighed heavy on his face, reflecting a man carrying far too much responsibility for far too long. There was a general mirth in his eyes however, a mischievous twinkle. The contrast in characteristics confused the chestnut colored elf. Domenic's long black braids tapered into a ponytail that fell between his shoulder blades behind him as he rode the old grey mare the 'shem' had given him. He still wore the old, worn out studded leather armor he had 'acquired' in a noble's manor recently. The shemlen in the market eyed the elf suspiciously. Who did this knife-ears think he was, the King of Ferelden?

The cold look Domenic gave each in turn stopped their glares. Just beneath that frosty exterior lied a rage that could be felt by each and every human that looked the warrior elf in the eyes. They had no doubt he would slide off that horse and put a knife in between their ribs. As they rode in silence to the Gnawed Noble Tavern to meet with some of Duncan's associates, the elf's thoughts drifted back to just six hours ago…

* * *

Cold water crashed against Domenic's face as he jumped out of his bed, sputtering. A pale red-haired elf stood laughing, a dripping wooden bucket still in her hands. If the water had not woke him, the smell of stale ale on her breath would have. The scowl on the dark skinned elf's face faded at the sounds of his cousin's laughter until he too, could only shake his head and chuckle. She had warned him, after all. Shianni wiped a tear from her green eyes with a snort and moved a short red braid from in front of her face. "Now come on cousin," She chided him. "We can't keep Nesiara waiting or she might come to her senses and run back to Highever". She laughed before becoming serious. "And for the Maker's sake, help me find Soris! I don't know where he ran off too, but we can't have a double wedding without the second groom".

Domenic stood, shaking the dirty brown water from his braids. "Well, I could always marry them both". He offered with a wicked grin. Shianni threw the bucket at her taller cousin before bursting into laughter again. Domenic laughed dodging. He was not thrilled about the idea of an arranged marriage. The thought of a father selling his daughter to another family made him a little sick. However his father had told him all about how it was to breed diversity and unity with the other Alienages, and the thought of this mystery woman was intriguing. He was torn on the whole idea. He just wished he had a say in the matter. He was being forced to give up his freedom, but a new life, a new chance to be happy; it was something Domenic had completely given up on. The dark elf could only hope they would get along. For all he knew, he could very well be marrying someone like Elva! Approaching twenty years old, this wedding was a long time coming.

Despite his father Cyrion's 'wealth' among Alienage elves, Domenic's…temperament towards humans made him a difficult match. Cyrion did what he could to temper his son's rage towards the ones that controlled every aspect of their lives, but the humans did not make that easy. Human arrogance, and hate was prevalent in elven life, and many just accepted it as 'the way it is'. Domenic was not one of them. Rumors of the elf's cold rage reached the other Alienages, as random humans who visited the elven ghetto would disappear soon after. Despite these difficulties, Cyrion was determined to find his only son a suitable wife, and after years of trying, found a good family from Highever.

"Every father here is going to breathe a sigh of relief when you're finally married off". Shianni laughed, rousing Domenic from his thoughts. That part was true, his bad boy attitude and love for the Alienage and all her residents gave the young man quite a few admirers. "Uncle Cyrion did well for you, cousin. I met your bride earlier today. She's beautiful!"

"Alright, alright, I'll get ready" The elf smiled. Shanni was always ridiculously upbeat, but today the young woman seemed to be bouncing off the walls. It was impossible to even pretend to be angry around his cousin. If only she knew when to put down the bottle… "Just remember this the day your father finally pawns you off!"

The beautiful red-haired elf laughed as she left the room, allowing Domenic to change into this wedding attire. His braids were tied back again, flowing over the back of his dark purple and brown vest. He filled out the outfit quite well. Working in the rock quarry had given Domenic an almost human build. It was dangerous work. Dangerous, but profitable. Even though he and the other elves earned a fraction of what the humans did for twice as much work, it paid more coin than many elves would ever see. A well paying job was rare indeed for an elf of Ferelden, and it was one of the other factors that made him an acceptable match. He worked hard and did not complain. If anything, smashing rocks gave the angry youth something close to peace of mind.

He was tall for an elf, just taller than a human woman, with a thin build that rippled with muscle. He cursed, struggling with the many front buttons of his gold rimmed vest. It was some of the finer clothes you could find in the Alienage, with colors that screamed festive. That did not mean it was comfortable. Every step Domenic took made a new part of his body itch uncontrollably.

He was half ready to take it all off and get married in his small clothes when sounds of his father's laughter echoed from behind him. In the meantime, Domenic was about to dislocate his shoulder trying to scratch the small of his back.

"If you like it so much father, you can wear it today". Domenic complained.

"No, my son. I had my turn, now it's yours". Cyrion Tabris said, his grey eyes growing sad thinking of his own wedding day. The old elf's hair was now a solid grey after years of trying to keep his son on the right path. Cyrion had an almost ghostly complexion. The wrinkles showed heavily on his face, making him seem much, much older than he was. Adaia's death had been hard on him. He never once thought to stop to remarry. Instead, he devoted all his time to his son and making sure they could live comfortably, even in the large, crowded cesspool that was the Denerim Alienage. "I wish your mother could have been here…."

Domenic's scar itched at the mention of his mother, Adaia. Cyrion was always working as a servant at Bann Rodolf's manor. He was one of the few humans who actually paid his servants well, and treated them with something close to respect. During that time, Adaia had taught her son many different things. How to laugh at injustice. How to see the best in people. She also taught him how to fight. She taught him, Soris and Shianni the basics of swordsmanship. No one knew where she picked up these skills. Although it was illegal for an elf to have any kind of weapon, events from Adaia's past forced her to be sure that the children could defend themselves when the time was right. She was fast, nimble and always smiling. Training with heavy sticks, the three children loved playing these war games. Her son however, was a natural. Strong and fast, he had a warrior's instinct even at seven years old. By ten, Domenic had mastered a few of the forms his mother had taught him. It did not help him save her.

She was working in the kitchen of a small pub in Denerim. A foul smelling hole on the outskirts of town. An elven maid being out that late would cause most to worry, but Adaia, could handle herself. It was late, far too late for a little boy to be out, but Domenic missed his mother, and went to meet her after work. Four drunken humans were grabbing her backside as she tried to walk away. The instigator, a fat man with a patched beard and beer drenched clothes, took an elbow to the throat that dropped him instantly. With a pleasant smile still on her face, Adaia walked away. His friends were not happy with the turn of events and charged. Every other word out of their mouths being 'knife-ears' or 'whore' . With grace and skill she evaded the attacks, causing the drunkards to tumble into each other. Adaia gracefully spun to the side as a sloppy drunk drew his short sword and attempted to run her through. His blade slid smoothly into his friend's belly as the elf placed her leg behind his, backhanding the man in the throat and tripping him to the ground while pulling the blade from the falling dead man. Now armed, Adaia was in no danger from these men, but Domenic didn't see it like that.

The little boy ran into the fight, grabbing a lose stone from the ground. Adaia screamed his name, telling him to stay back. Drunk or not, humans were not stupid. Seeing an advantage, the fat man grabbed the little boy and pulled a knife. Adaia froze. He held the knife to the boy's face, dragging the blade across his right eye. The proud woman did not resist as his two friends tore her undergarments off and had their way with her. She didn't blink, she didn't cry, she didn't scream. Adaia would not give them that pleasure. Domenic tried to fight back, to save his mother. A handle blow to the head stopped his resistance.

He awoke to a heavy rain beating against him, his mother lying not too far away. The little boy crawled through the rain and the mud, reaching out to her. He grabbed her hand, hoping to feel that familiar squeeze. Instead her hands were ice, the blood that pooled around here already dark from the sword wound in her back. They had used her, killed her and left both their bodies in a gutter. They had disposed of his mother like she was a pair of old socks. A mixture of blood, tears and mud covered the boy as he numbly walked back to the Alienage. What little childhood the boy had left died in that gutter with his mother. As Valendrian treated his eye and took in Domenic's story, all that remained of that little boy was his mother's teachings and a deep dark hole that only human blood could fill.

"Me too, father". Domenic added softly. The pain his father felt, after all these years was still palpable.

"Nervous?" Cyrion asked, noting the distressed look in his son's eyes.

"I guess. Never met this girl before, and I'd rather choose the girl I'd marry than have one sold to me. Well, what should I be doing?" He said, trying to lighten the mood. It was a wedding after all, and his father had sacrificed so much for him. The least he could do was enjoy the day.

"Time to find Soris. The sooner this wedding starts the less chance you two have to run away". Cyrion commented. The thought had indeed crossed Domenic's mind.

"Hey, a small chance is still a chance". He smiled at his father.

The old elf laughed. "Smartass". His face grew serious again. "By the way, the things your mother taught you. The knives, swords, what have you, don't mention them to Nesiara".

Domenic groaned. He had been practicing swordsmanship since he was seven years old. It was kind of a big deal to keep from someone who was supposed to be his wife.

"Guess you didn't tell her family that before they decided to sell her off…" Domenic commented coldly.

"I don't want us to come off as troublemakers. Adaia made that mistake".

Domenic's eyes went flat again. He knew better than to talk of Domenic's mother like this. "The shems who killed her made a bigger one". His father could never understand the hidden meaning of that sentence. After Domenic had told Valendrian what had happened to his mother, the elder went to the city officials to report the murder. The kind old man made sure never to tell Cyrion that his wife was violated. The boy knew who the attackers were, they were regulars at that pigsty his mother used to work in. The guard did nothing. No investigation, no arrests, no questions. Just another dead elf. No one outside the Alienage cared. No one. Shianni and Soris did what they could for their cousin. They spent the next week with the boy while he healed, keeping him company, talking of better times. Their hopes, prayers and comforting words fell on deaf ears. The week passed and Domenic's eye had healed into what would become a scar that would run from above his eyebrow to his cheekbone. That night, wearing the darkest clothes he could find and all the lamp oil he could carry, Domenic left the Alienage and made his way to the bar. It was another rowdy night, the regulars there in force. Domenic peaked in the window and saw the fat bastard that had scarred him, and his friends, drinking the night away. Without a care in the world they drank and reveled, never giving Adaia a second thought. With that thought pounding in his mind, he barricaded the entrances, coated the rotting wood and stone shack in oil, and watched it burn to the ground. Fifteen men and women died that night. Domenic removed his hood, staring as the flames spread. The fat pig that raped his mother ran to the windows, attempting to break through. Domenic made sure the shem saw his face. Domenic watched as fear and recognition dawned on his features, and with cold, vindictive eyes watched as the flames took him. The city guards investigated THAT sure enough, but the boy left no evidence, no tracks for them to follow. If there was one thing all elves could do, it was hide. For the first time after his mother's death, Domenic had a peaceful night's sleep. They would not be the only shemlen lives the boy took in the years after. Cyrion and Valendrian were always suspicious of who set that fire, but couldn't bring themselves to think of a little boy doing something like that. He conveniently called it 'the will of the Maker' and went about his life.

"Our world is full of so many injustices" the old elf said sadly, taking silent solace in the fact that her attackers died in one of the most painful ways possible, Maker forgive him. "But go on, I still have some things to take care of and Soris is probably waiting for you by the gates!" Cyrion laughed. Domenic put his hand on his father's shoulder before moving past him towards the door.

It was a beautiful day in the Alienage. Domenic thought it was the perfect day for a wedding…preferably one that wasn't his. The sun was already high in the sky, beating down on the dusty unpaved roads of the elven ghetto. Dozens of homes in various forms of disarray lined the streets. Each building had random pieces of wood scattered over old, rotted sections. Only his and a few other homes could afford to use treated wood, but despite the rundown nature of the Alienage, her children thrived. Few went too hungry, and almost everyone helped one another in times of need. Rarely would one go more than a week without food. The dozens of houses and apartments stacked on top of one another may not have been the most appealing, but few remained uninhabitable. A two bedroom apartment often held up to seven people, but few complained. This was the only life those in the Alienage knew, and it could always be worse. In the center of the ghetto, past all the muck and mire, stood the Vhenadahl. It's an ancient tree of unknown breed, known as the 'tree of the people'. Meant to be a symbol of Arlanthan, it's little more than a landmark now. But it brings pride to the elves of Denerim, knowing that at least one part of their lost culture still thrives. The ancient tree bloomed with life, its leaves casting a much needed shadow, its branches reaching up above the highest buildings in the ghetto. To the left of the tree, a large stage was built by an old warehouse. It had taken weeks to build. Domenic couldn't help but think this was all unnecessary. If he had to get married, just do it and be done with it. Why the show? Looking at that large, ominous stage made him feel very much like the prized hog at a fair…

Walking past the makeshift stage, Domenic happened to overhear a conversation between two elves he had never seen before. He attempted to walk by, eavesdropping as he passed. The two were discussing something about 'breeding'. It took the young elf only a moment to realize they were talking about HIM. They stopped their only mildly insulting conversation to address the groom as he approached.

"Greetings, young one". The older woman smiled. She and her friend's hair were stark grey. The woman's pulled back into an easy ponytail, while the man's was short cropped, standing as if coated in mud. Both wore tradition, shabby Alienage clothing, though the woman's dress had a bit more color and flair than normal. "I am Dilwyn, and this is my husband, Gethon". The older man smiled and extended his hand. Domenic greeted them both warmly, even though they were strangers. They spoke briefly before Dilwyn dropped the news on him. They were friends of his mother before she moved to Denerim! Excitement rushed through him. His father never spoke of her life before coming to his Alienage! Her life, her friends, all those things that remained hidden from him, maybe they could answered.

"Please, can you tell me about her? My father never speaks of her life before here."

"Truly?" Dilwyn seemed surprised. "I can only imagine how hard it must have been for your father. He loved her very much".

"We all did". Gethon added, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Well we grew up in Redcliff together before she left and joined the Hard Line under Commander Raleigh. After that she stayed in Denerim". So that was where she learned how to fight. The old man never told Domenic that about his mother…what else did he leave out? Why did she leave the Hard Line?

"Met your father right here. Love at first sight". Dilwyn added. Dominic's eyes widened in as a revelation dawned on him.

"Wait, so my mother and father weren't an arranged marriage?"

Dilwyn closed her eyes and laughed. "Adaia never let anyone tell her what to do, let alone who to marry. No, they chose each other, right then."

"Bloody hypocrite…" the boy muttered. Even with this information, it was too late to get out of this wedding. No, his fate was sealed. He just hoped it would be a pleasant one.

"But enough about the past, this is about your future".

Gethon reached into his purse and pulled out a small bag. From the jingle alone Domenic could tell it was a substantial sum. "We've been doing some saving, and we want you to have this Domenic. To help start your new life". Hesitantly Domenic reached out and opened the purse to find silver, fifteen pieces of silver! More than most elves could save in a year's time. The dark skinned elf immediately pushed the bag back into Gethon's hands.

"Sir, I can't take this!" He whispered, afraid others might hear. Gethon refused to take hold and lifted his hands in the air before walking away smiling.

"Now, now. We insist. Use it well, young Tabris".

Defeated, Domenic quickly attached the purse to his belt. "I will. Thank you both. Truly". Somberly he swore to the two. He reached out to shake their hands, but Dilwyn and Gethon would have none of that. As if planned, both reached out and embraced to boy in a fierce hug.

"We know you will Domenic. We know you will. Maker bless you".

"You're staying for the wedding, right?"

Dilwyn laughed. "We wouldn't miss it, Domenic. We'll be right here after the ceremony".

"Great! I would love to talk to you both more, but I have to find my cousin before he decides to run!" Domenic laughed. "After the wedding?"

Dilwyn and Gethon both promised to stay, and bid the young elf goodbye to finish his affairs. He did not get far before spotting an old friend. Domenic couldn't help but feel nostalgic as he watched Nessa. The beautiful, short haired elf carried a small wooden box, full of trinkets. He smiled watching her move, and couldn't help but to be reminded of their dance at the last Wintersend festival. Nessa's red hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, one that revealed her delicate features. There was a look in her eyes though, a sadness and a sense of loss that Domenic couldn't put his finger on. A small bronze trinket slipped from one of the many cracks in the old crate and fell to the mud soundlessly. Using a handkerchief from his formal wear, Domenic cleaned off the piece. To his surprise it appeared to be a bronze symbol of Andraste. Quickly the boy ran up to Nessa, calling her name. At the sound of her name she turned, her eyes red with tears.

"You dropped this…" He said softly, putting the symbol of faith back in the box. "What's wrong?"

"Its nothing Domenic, thanks…" He offered to carry the box, an offer the girl politely refused.

"Seriously Nessa, you can tell me anything".

"It's just…..the human who owns our home decided to sell it for storage. We're homeless Domenic. So my father is packing up everything we own and we're moving south….to help at the Ostagar Ruins. I don't mind the work, but…" by this time the young girl had dropped the box and threw herself into Domenic's arms, weeping. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking the crying girl's hair. While his words and embrace were comforting, his eyes burned with anger.

The Ostagar Ruins were a shemlen military camp. Nothing but spoiled or bigoted shemlen as far as the eye could see. Shemlen who haven't seen a woman in months. There would be no telling what the men would do to a helpless elven girl. "No". The boy growled. "Absolutely not. You and your family are staying with us, or at the very least with Shianni. Your father wants to play with the _shems_ then he can go right ahead, but he is NOT taking you or your mother down there".

"He would never allow it, he's too proud. Shianni and I have already tried…" She sobbed.

"I'll beat sense into him if I have too…" Domenic scowled. A thought flashed across his dark features. "How much would it cost to rent a place of your own, at least for a time?"

"I've been looking into it. Ten silvers would set us up with a place large enough to start the seamstress business my mother and I always wanted, but it's just not possible Domenic."

_ Well, I did promise Dilwyn and Gethon I'd use it well_. The boy thought before taking out his purse. "Don't say anything's impossible". He grinned lightly as he took her hand and placed the bag in her palms. "Take this, and stay with us. Where you belong". He closed her hand around the purse, forcing her to take it.

"Domenic…" she whispered, in shock as she opened the bag. "It's…oh Maker, I can't believe it. You saved our family, probably our lives! Domenic I love you!" She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He returned the hug laughing lightly. "If only you had told me that a few months ago…" He sighed melodramatically. In truth he meant it.

"Oh stop," She let go, playfully slapping his arm. "Nesiara is a lucky woman". Domenic saw a hint of regret in her eyes too, and the elf mourned what could have been. "Now I just have to figure out how to explain this to my parents…."

"Just take care of yourself, Nessa". He noticed he was still holding one of her hands. Reluntantly he let go.

The girl picked up her now soaking wooden box, placed the purse safely on top, and raced off to give her parents the good news. But not before looking back at the dark elf one last time, who just smiled regretfully and waved goodbye.

"Always the hero, huh cousin?" A light voice came from behind him. Domenic only smirked.

"Always a snoop, huh Soris?" He answered as he turned around and greeted his lighter cousin with a handshake. The tall pale elf's short red hair was cropped high and styled, and he was dressed in his finest green and burgundy attire, much the same style as Domenic's own. "Nice tunic".

"Thanks, your damsel in distress spent a solid month making this". He looked over Domenic's shoulder as the young lady's arms flailed wildly speaking to her parents. "She's got a gift. So…you ready to celebrate the loss of our independence together?"

"Not in the least!" Domenic laughed.

"You should be! From what I heard your bride is a dream come true! Mine sounds more like a dying mouse". The elf groaned.

"Want a cage for a wedding gift?" The dark elf smiled teasingly.

Soris laughed. "Cousin, that's terrible. I ever get married again, your father is helping me find a bride and not Valendrian!"

"Hey, with an attitude like that, you're lucky the Hahren found you a mouse!" The two laughed. "Come on, let's get this over with". As the two walked, Domenic couldn't help but reflect on the day so far. The sun was shining, his bride was supposedly gorgeous , he helped Nessa out of a situation that would only end in horror, and he had an extra five silvers in his purse. Today seemed like it was going to be alright after all. He was shaken from his thoughts as three children ran up to him and Soris.

"Domenic, Domenic!" Amethyne ran up and grabbed his hands. "Can you tell us the story of Korin the Elven King again?!"

"You still making up those stories?" Soris whispered. As much as he disapproved of Domenic telling tales, seeing the kids so excited about elven heroes warmed his heart.

Domenic chose to ignore him and ruffled the little girl's platinum blonde hair. "Sorry guys, we gotta get ready for this wedding today. Aren't you supposed to be the flower girl, Amethyne?" With her mother working for Bann Loren and leaving the Alienage, Domenic always took the time to talk to the little girl. It's hard losing your mother, even if she's only a few days ride away. Iona came back to visit, but nowhere near often enough in Domenic's opinion. He knew it was a hard choice for Iona to leave her daughter in the Alienage while she worked for some stuffed shirt shemlen, the coin she was making would guarantee her daughter a better life. However, he just couldn't imagine leaving your child behind.

"I know, but we all really wanted to hear it!" She squealed. The other children were now jumping up and down, almost begging for another tale of how the great king slew all the humans and freed the elves. Some movement in the corner of his eye caught Domenic's attention as Soris gasped.

"Not right now. How about you kids run off to find Hahren Valendrian?" He smiled, however his eyes did not leave the scene going on behind the children. As the kids agreed and scurried off Domenic's clinched his fists, his eyes went flat and emotionless. Three humans, obviously drunk, had made their way to Shianni and some of the bridesmaids. The leader of the bunch was another red head wearing a flambountly bright orange tunic. His mustache and goatee were immaculate. His voice oozed condemnation and contempt. Everything about him made the elf's skin crawl. His eyes…they were the same eyes as the fat bastard Domenic met all those years ago. His lackeys were also dressed in finery, far too fancy to be normal dress. Something was very off here. Gruffly one of them grabbed Nola, the youngest of the bridesmaids. The young girl's pleas fell on deaf ears as she squirm free and bolted as fast as her frightened legs would carry her. The human's laugh was sickening as he told his friends to 'enjoy the hunt'.

"Take this elven wench here, so young and vulnerable…" The implications of his words oozed out of his mouth. What was meant to be a suave tone was nothing but foul.

"Touch me and I'll gut you, you pig!" Shianni spat, fear overpowering her intoxication. Her brother tried to get in between her and her attacker. A simple backhand knocked him on his back. Domenic should not have been surprised when no one said anything, when no one fought back. But he was. He always was. Soris saw his hand going for the small knife he kept on his belt. It wasn't a long blade, but Soris had once saw Domenic kill a rabbit ten yards away with it. He had dubbed it Domenic's 'Murder Knife'…it was aptly named.

"Domenic…" he tried to warn his cousin.

"This ends now". He stated with finality.

Soris sighed. "Fine, but let's TRY to be diplomatic about it". Domenic's grin caused him to flinch.

As if noticing a stray dog the leader of the bunch brought his gaze to the two elves. "What's this, the two grooms come to welcome me personally?" The human sneered.

The dark elf was not in the mood for games. "Leave. Now". His face was impassive, as stone as the human in front of him bore down upon him with all his contempt. His breath was rancorous, and Domenic swore it would bleed the colors out of his wedding tunic.

"Do you have any idea who I am?" He laughed mockingly.

"Ugly all day". The elf replied with absolutely straight face, not missing a beat. In a different situation Soris would have laughed. Instead he was shaking his hands rapidly mouthing 'no'. The human turned around just in time to catch a ceramic bottle to the temple. The bottle shattered, sending shards, wine and the human to the dead Alienage soil with a thud. His finery covered in liquor, mud and Maker knew what else as he landed without so much as a groan. From his rigid posture, it was obvious that the drunkard was out cold.

"Are you insane?!" A bulky human roared in shock. "This is Vaughan Kendells, son of the Arl of Denerim!" No one, especially not a knife-eared whore, would dare raise their hand against nobility, let alone an Arl!

"Then just imagine what I'm going to do to you". Domenic whispered darkly from behind. The larger human spun around, attempting to backhand the elf the same way Vaughan had done earlier. The elf smoothly ducked the backhand, placing his right leg behind the drunken human's own. His right hand lashed out in a palm thrust, catching the man directly beneath the chin. The blow stunned the drunkard as he tripped over Domenic's extended leg, falling flat on his back in mud and manure. In an instant Domenic was on him; his knee flush against his solar plexus and his knife held reverse gripped at the noble's throat.

"Braden?" The third cried out, but stopped immediately as Domenic's knife drew blood.

Fear and tears were the only thing in Braden's eyes as Domenic's bore into him. "Lord Braden, is it?" The elf asked, his tone and features still as ice. "Take that piss soaked shem and leave here, now. We won't say anything about today if you don't. If I see you again, I will kill you". The last part was stated with such finality that Braden just blinked his agreement. He and Jonaley were so used to Vaughan leading the way on their little hunts and things going smoothly. Never before had someone seriously fought back. And that black, heartless look in this knife-ear's eyes…he meant every word. Satisfied with Braden's agreement, Domenic roughly rose to his feet, driving his knee a little further into the noble's gut as he rose. Jonaley had already heaved his unconscious Arl over his shoulder.

"You got a lot of nerve, knife-ears!" Jonaley mustarded up as much bravado as possible in this situation. "This will go badly for you". Domenic didn't bother to reply as the three humans scurried off.

"Are you mad?!" Soris almost screamed. "You just pulled a knife on a noble!"

"It worked". The elf replied, sheathing the small knife. "If they weren't such cowards, that probably wouldn't have worked. Luckily shems have spines made of butter".

Shianni approached the two grooms, rubbing her face in disbelief. "I really messed up this time…" Domenic gave his cousin a hug.

"Nice swing". He grinned.

"This isn't funny, Dom!" She shook.

"It'll be alright" Soris cut in, also putting a hand on his shaking cousin. "He'll never tell anyone an elven woman bottled him".

"Took him down clean too. Such a waste of good wine though…" He shook his head melodramatically.

"I guess so…" the elven woman wasn't so sure. "I guess I'd better go get changed". Shianni turned to leave, a haunted look in her eyes. She and Domenic both looked at each other for a moment, and both of them knew the third noble was right. This would end badly for them.

* * *

"Is everyone alright?" His cousin was now speaking to two new elves that Domenic had never seen in the Alienage. One was a small woman, even for an elf. She had exceptionally large ears that pointed out en extreme angles. Her thin, wiry face made Domenic instantly think of a mouse. Her small, shy voice confirmed it.

"I think so, what was that all about?" She squeaked.

"Oh, the Arl's son just decided to start drinking a little early…"

"THAT was the Arl's son?" A beautiful blonde elf replied. Her voice rose in surprise and confusion. Denerim was supposed to be the capital of Ferelden, a place of diplomacy, nobility and dignity. How could a nobleman act like THAT?

Soris smiled lightly, doing everything he could to lighten the mood and take everyone's minds off of what had just happened. "Yes, but we shouldn't let that ruin the day. Domenic, this Valora, my betrothed" Domenic bowed his head politely to the young brunette by Soris' side.

"And you must be Nesiara," the dark elf finished. "Both Shianni and my father told me how beautiful you are. They were not exaggerating". He tried to be charming, but the incident earlier left him feeling a little hollow. He reached out to greet her, and Domenic noticed her flinch ever so slightly. She must have seen him with that shemlen. Domenic sighed internally. This was a bad start to a marriage…

"It is nice to finally see you with my own eyes…" She extended her hand and lightly held his. Domenic's grip was warm, almost caring. It was a stark contrast to the coldness she had seen just moments before. "Where…how did you do that?"

Valora joined the conversation. "I've never seen anything like that!"

"My mother taught me. Nowhere in Thedas is safe for us, not really. So she taught me how to defend myself". He sighed again, and lifted his eyes to meet Nesiara's. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I'm sorry we live in a world where things like that have to happen. But I swear that no matter what, I will protect you for as long as you will have me". He replied honestly. This was to be his bride. She had to know who, and what was if they wanted any semblance of a normal life. The sincerity in Domenic's voice almost immediately washed away her fears. She looked at the long gash running down his right eye, then into his ebony eyes. She saw no lies, no deception, and no fear. All she saw was a man trying to do the best he could to protect those he cared about. She smiled lightly, feeling slightly better about this whole arranged marriage tradition.

"The match maker chose wisely indeed. I hope I am worthy of your affections".

The elf felt his cousin's back brush up against his, a normal nervous habit from his twitchy cousin. "Come on cousin" he said in hushed tones. "we should let them get ready…." He emphasized the last words. Domenic groaned, Soris was hinting at something…again.

"Yes, we should probably check up on Shianni and make sure everything is ready". Valora joined Nesiara. "Don't disappear on us". She said playfully.

"Or we'll hunt you down!" laughed Nesiara in a possessive cackle that made Domenic raise an eyebrow. Instantly he regretted what he had just said as his hair stood on end. After that line, never so badly had the elf wanted to run. The two left to Shianni's house as Domenic and Soris stood back to back.

"Don't look now, but we have another problem". Whispered Soris. Domenic almost shouted in frustration. What now!? He turned to look where Soris was staring and saw exactly what the elf meant. Another human, with skin just a few shades lighter than Domenic's. He stood almost regally, his arms folded behind his back, as if observing. Judging by the grey patches in his beard the man must have been in his fifties, but what stood out the most was the intricate armor he was wearing. Never before had Domenic like that. His hawk-like nose, hardened expression and weapons he carried made it evident this man was no stranger to fighting. He wouldn't be scared off like Vaughan and his cronies. "I don't know who he is or what he wants, but we need to move him along before **someone**" Soris looked directly at Domenic "does something stupid".

"This one's not leaving so fast. Look at him. He's calm, poised, and armed. He's looking for something". It wasn't like Domenic, but he was hesitant to fight this shem. This shem was different…dangerous.

"Well let's help him find whatever it is and get him out of here. The boys have been drinking and after that mess with Vaughan…" Soris left it hanging in the air, but Domenic knew what he meant. The two grooms made their way to the Vhenadahl were the human was standing stoically. Domenic couldn't help but feel resentment for the man standing so close to the last thing in the Alienage that reminded them of their heritage. Upon seeing their approach the old man crossed his arms in front of his chest and..bowed? Domenic and Soris both looked at each other, dumbfounded. That was…new.

"Good day" the human greeted. "I understand congratulations are in order for your impending wedding". Soris stuttered out a thank you. Hearing a human being so civil shocked the both of them. Domenic had come with murderous intent, but was honestly taken back by the shemlen's manners.

"Time to leave, shemlen". The dark elf scowled, coming back to his senses.

"And why would I do that?" The human asked. Soris attempted to speak but was cut off by his cousin.

"You are unwanted here, and I've had enough of your kind for one day". Domenic took a step closer. With those blades on his back he didn't want to give the human any time to reach them. The dark human noticed the elf move closer, but did not move.

"I'm sorry, but I have no intention of leaving until I find what I am looking for".

"Then find it quickly, and leave". The human smiled ever so slightly. As if aggravating Domenic was a game. The elf took another step closer, planning. To reach his blades, the human would have to lift his arms, revealing the weak point in his armor. A quick thrust to the armpit would seriously injure him, if not kill the human outright. With a stone cold expression Domenic stood his ground, waiting for that moment. The human's smile became a little larger, seeing the elf eye him up.

"Confronted by a heavily armored man, and still he keeps his composure, and plans his next move accordingly. A rare gift in these times, wouldn't you say Valendrian?" The human turned to the left as the Alienage Elder approached.

"I would say the world has far greater use of those who know how to stay their blades…" the elder looked at Domenic disapprovingly. Soris breathed a sigh of relief, his hand going to his chest. "Hello old friend" He smiled as he turned to the two young elves before him. "May I present Duncan, Head of the Grey Wardens here in Ferelden".

While Soris' eyes bulged in surprise, Domenic crossed his arms with distain. "And? Why is this shem here, Hahren? We've had enough problems with them today".

"Yes, I heard about the disruption earlier. Although I don't condone how you and Shianni acted, I suppose it could have been much worse". The old elf nodded sadly. A thought came to the young scarred elf in front of him.

"Hahren, I need you to hold this for awhile". Domenic took off his rabbit knife and handed it to the elder. Valendrian looked at the blade questionly. "I almost slit a noble's throat earlier. It would be better if I'm not caught with that". Shock flashed across Valendrian's withered features.

"You play a dangerous game, Domenic". He replied before sheathing the small blade.

"Don't we all?"

"Old friend. But I fear the worst has happened. A Blight has begun. King Cailan summons the Grey Wardens to Ostagar to fight the darkspawn horde alongside his armies". Duncan turned to the elder to relay the news.

"Darkspawn?" Soris asked, his voice shaking. "Those monsters from Mother Bohann's tales?"

"Foul creatures that warped the Golden City and came back to the mortal plane abominations. If not stopped here, they will swarm all across Ferelden like a plague". The Warden nodded gravely.

"Shemlen war. Shemlen problem". Domenic said before turning his back to walk away. His scar itched furiously. Something about this human rubbed him the wrong way, and for the life of him, Domenic could not figure out what it was. It was true though. The king's army would never allow an elf to hold a blade and fight alongside them. Maker forbid, he might do something worthwhile and show his people had value. And even if they did, why in all the hells would any elf want to?

"The Wardens of worthy of respect, no matter who wears their crest". The elder elf's voice carried a hint of steel in it. Apparently this Duncan was important to the old elf. But Domenic was too far away and too mad to care. Let the shemlen fight their own wars. No one help elves fight theirs.

"It's alright Valendrian. My concerns can wait, for now. But you have a ceremony to perform, and I have colleagues in town that may get into trouble without me. We shall speak again soon". The two shook hands as they parted, Soris again bowing stiffly to the imposing Grey Warden before him. He met up with his cousin, and the two of them took center stage as the rest of the Alienage gathered round. Nesiara and Valora stood waiting for them, looking radiant. Nesiara wore an elegant white gown, while Valora a bright and beautiful red and orange dress. On stage with them stood Shianni, beaming proudly, and yet another human. However this one was expected. Mother Bohann of the Chantry. One of the few that would come to preach to the elves of the Alienage. The elves of the Alienage were not even allowed to officiate their own weddings. They needed Chantry approval, documentation, and above all else, payments for the wedding license. Domenic was not a religious man by any means, and Mother Bohann was one of the few that didn't seem to have a problem coming to the Alienage to preach, or the attitude her sisters did. The fact that they were forced to have her there is what bothered the boy. Just another way the shemlen controlled their lives…

Valora almost shouted with a mixture of joy and relief as Soris and Domenic come to the stage. "You guys made it!" Even though she was joking when she told them not to run off, the thought had in fact crossed her mind. The red hair elf laughed nervously.

"No, I'm here. Fellow groom in tow". Nesiara looked on at the dark elf in a mixture of nerves, and excitement. He seemed to be a good man. Here's hoping he would be a better father to the three kids she had already determined they would have. Two boys and one girl, of course.

"I'm happy we can finally do this". She said softly as Domenic smiled, lightly taking her hand. It was a nice smile, it offset the seriousness of his eyes.

"So am I. Nervous?"

"Shaking" She smiled nervously.

"If it makes you feel any better, so am I". The elf replied honestly. "Whenever you feel faint, just give my hand a good squeeze. We'll get through this together". Nesiara's smile brightened as Dominic turned to his cousin. "Good luck, Soris".

"You too, cousin". He replied smiling. "Maybe it won't be so bad after all…" Valora just looked at her thick headed betrothed and shook her head.

"Smooth cousin. Very smooth" He and Nesiara both looked at each other.

"Er… I mean…" the young elf stumbled over his words. Fortunately, Hahren Valendrian started the ceremony in time to save him further embarrassment. He gave quick speech on how they were not always a free people, but thanks to Andraste, the Maker's bride, they had a chance to leave their own lives. He talked on how marriages between Alienages strengthens the bonds and hopes of all their people and how together, they could build a better future for all, human and elf alike. Domenic listened intently, and saw the true importance of this wedding. It wasn't just to be seen as a productive adult in their society, but to strengthen the bonds of friends and family. To celebrate life, and new beginnings. He looked at Nesiara and smiled lightly. She was not his first choice, but in time, maybe he could come to love her. Only time would tell as Mother Bohann began her benediction.

"In the name of the Maker, who brought us this world, and in whose name we say the Chant of Light, I…." the Mother didn't finish as Shianni and the other bridesmaids gasped. The sound of heavy footsteps ended all conversation. The crowd turned to see Lord Vaughan Kendall of Denerim, flanked by his two 'friends' escorting a column of armed and armored guards directly to the stage.

"No…" Domenic whispered, his mouth running dry. He wouldn't, he **couldn't!**

Without even looking at the people he pushed out of his way, Vaughan stepped onto the wedding stage. "Sorry to interrupt, Mother" He started with a hint of sincerity. "but I'm having a little party, and I'm dreadfully short of female guests". That sickening laugh oozed from his mouth again. _Can't get a woman of his own…what a shock._ Domenic thought.

"Milord!" Mother Bohann protested. "This is a _wedding!"_

Vaughan laughed derisively, sneering. "If you want to dress up your _pets_ and have tea parties, that's your business. But don't pretend this is a proper wedding…" His sneer became more pronounced, Mother Bohann backed away. "Now, we're here to have a good time, aren't we boys?" By this time Domenic's hand went to where his knife was normally kept, only to find the blade missing. Already he had forgotten that he handed the blade to Valendrian. He looked at the elder pleadingly, who shook his head slowly. Domenic's jaw tightened as he looked at the guards surrounding the stage. In formation, they drew their shields, forming a wall between the elves and the events on stage. His eyes widened in further disbelief and rage. They all bared shields with Denerim's heraldry! These were city guards, knights. Meant to protect the people! Braden and the third noble now known to be Lord Jonaley had found their courage with the help of two dozen guards. The three nobles were on the stage, and Vaughan went back and forth picking elven women as if he were shopping in the market. "Let's take those two" He pointed to the brides, who instinctively backed up a step. Domenic moved to stand in front of Nesiara, Soris doing the same. " The one in the tight dress…oh yes, and where is that bitch who bottled me?"

Jonaley laughed, the booze in his system making him rock back and forth as he gruffly grabbed Shianni by the arm, pulling her towards him before wrapping his arm around her waist. The pig groping the woman as he did so. "Right here, Lord Vaughan!"

"Let me go you stuffed shirt son of a…" The fiery red-haired elf fought for her freedom, elbowing the drunken noble in the throat. Jonaley lost his grip, holding is throat and gagging as Shianni ran.

Vaughan laughed mocking. "Oh I'm going to enjoy taming you". His right hand lashed out, catching Shianni across the face. The woman fell back, her head slamming into the hard wooden stage as she let out a pitiful groan.

Unarmed, surrounded by guards. Domenic knew his next move would probably be his last. If he didn't do something now, Vaughan was going to walk out of her with his best friend and cousin Shianni, along with his bride to be. He swore he would always protect her for as long as he would let him. The elf knew he would die. Vaughan was coming with him. Braden remembered the events from earlier vividly, and saw Domenic's hands clinch into fists. Quickly the noble pointed to the scarred elf. "That one's armed! Lil bastard tried to kill me earlier". Before he could move, mailed hands were all over him, pulling him off the stage. The breath rushed from his body as he landed on his back against the hard Alienage earth. He was greeted by a barrage of steel boots. He felt his bones rattle as the kicks bounced off his head and body. The elves of Denerim had had enough. Rocks, bottles and whatever else they could find flew towards the city guard. Ale, dirt and stone bounced off the steel wall separating them as Domenic was being trampled. He put his arms over his head to protect himself the best he could. Vaughan raised a hand, and abruptly the beating stopped.

"That's enough boys. We can avoid and further….unpleasantries." Vaughan waved his hand beckoningly, and the guard picked the bleeding elf off the ground. Somehow, he was still conscious. Bleeding from the heavy blows, he placed his feet firmly on the ground. Blood ran freely down his head, his lip split wide open.

"On your knees, knife-ears!" A guard called out. A spear end struck behind the elf's knees as Domenic cried out, dropping into the muck. Two guards holding his arms apart, Domenic looked up weakly at the man who would defile everything we held dear. The only thoughts going through the elf's mind were memories of his mother._ Not again….not again. Shianni, Nesiara…I'm so sorry…._

"Oh don't worry I'll return what's left for the honeymoon". Vaughan sneered.

With what little strength he had, Domenic lifted his head to see his people pushing against the shield wall, trying to break through to help, to save their women. He looked the little Arl in his eyes, that ice cold expression still on his face. "Vaughan. You're going to die screaming".

"I live in fear". The noble turned to leave, and once again a blow to the back of the head would cause Domenic to drift into darkness as he lost those he cared for.

**A/N: Now I know why it takes some authors so long to write a single chapter with these novelizations…holy God! This is much darker than I'm used to writing, and the next chapter will be much the same, especially if you know the City Elf story, so get ready. Pairings unknown at this point...so if your reading you'll just have to wait and see. Anyway I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, and I look forward to writing more of the elven Hero of Ferelden. See you next chapter!**


	2. Day of Reckoning

**To anyone actually reading this…ahem…Dragon Age: Origins is the property of BioWare and Electronic Arts. I make no claim to their intellectual properties. This chapter also deals with sexual assault, racism and extreme violence. Rated M folks.**

**Day of Reckoning**

The world returned in a blaze of white as Domenic's eyes fluttered open. Blurred shapes moved in a hurried pace as murmurs drifted in and out of focus. The light burned the elf's eyes as he finally heard Soris calling his name. Quickly Domenic sat up, only to have his head rocked in blinding pain. Closing his eyes, the dark elf grimaced, holding his hand against a patch of dried blood.

"Easy cousin," Soris knelt down, easing a small red vial to Domenic's lips. "Let the potion do its job". The red liquid slid down the elf's throat and the pain subsided with each gulp.

"What…what happened?" Domenic shook his head, trying to remember. Slowly the images came back. He remembered the wedding. He recalled Vaughan and a score of guards escorting him. He remembered…."NESIARA! SHIANNI! Where are they?!"

"Vaughan took Shianni, Nesiara, Valora and the rest of the women in the wedding party to the palace!" Soris' voice shook. "That Grey Warden, Duncan just got back. The elder is talking to him now. Everyone is really upset. Some are calling for blood; others say that anything we do will only make it worse".

"Elva?" Domenic asked dryly.

"Elva".

"But why in the Void is the Hahren talking to that shem!" Domenic stood, his ribs screaming in protest. With a wince he held his side. The poultice healed the serious injuries, but apparently the aches and pains of the beating he took at the hands of the city guard would remain.

"If you're planning violence, a human is the one to talk to". Smirked the red haired elf. Domenic could only 'hmph' in agreement as the two made their way the Tree. The scene was tense as every elf in the Alienage surrounded the Vhendral, screaming their disapproval. Not a word could be understood as elf after elf screamed, first at Valendrian, then at each other. The elder stood next to the stoic Grey Warden, who once again had his hands folded behind his back. Domenic understood what the Warden was doing immediately. His hands were in a defenseless position, his posture strong but non-threatening. Duncan was trying to assure the people the of the Alienage, in his own way, that he was not a threat.

"Please, all of you, listen!" the Elder called out, trying to quiet down the crowd gathered around him and Duncan. "I know you are upset, and with good reason". His voice dropped an octave. Shamed by what he would say next. "But there is nothing we can do right now". Domenic couldn't believe what he had just heard. That shem had forced his way into their home, taken their women, and the Vahren would do NOTHING? The arguments began anew, and even Valendrian could not restore the peace.

"ENOUGH!" Roared the elf, more furious than he had been in years. "and say we just sit here and take it, like always. What's to stop him from doing this again, and again, and AGAIN? To every woman and child?!" The outburst from outside the circle stopped most of the quarrelling, as all turned to Domenic and Soris. The red haired elf looked around nervously, and inadvertently took a step back, away from their stares.

"Running after them would only make things worse". An old, haggard looking red haired elf who wore entirely too much make-up spoke up. Her mouth seemed to be in a perpetual sneer.

"How much worse can it get, Elva. Tell me". Domenic almost spit. "Where did he take the girls?"

"To the arl's palace I'd suspect. Normally I would council patience. Unfortunately stories of the Arl's son and his appetites are most…disturbing". Valendrian shook his head sadly as he handed Domenic back his small knife. The blade was comforting to have in his hands, the grip reassuring. The dark elf nodded thanks to the Alienage elder and turned to leave. "Where are you going?" The Hahren reached out, grabbing the elf's shoulder.

"I'm going to get our people back".

An elf with a rich chocolate complexion moved beside Cyrion. The man had a small voice, but was able to cut through the crowd. "Elder, I have a suggestion". Tristan breathed. "I work inside the palace. I could sneak one, perhaps two others in through the servant's entrance. No one would notice an extra pair of elves looking around".

"With the Arl and most of his men at Ostagar, only a handful of guards will be there…and probably too drunk to care". Valendrian rubbed his chin.

"We could be in and out before anyone knows it!" Soris perked up. They could rescue the women, not have to fight, and get back before Vaughan knew what happened!

"We?" Domenic asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm going with you, cousin. My bride is in there too…" Domenic could see his cousin shaking slightly at the thought of what had to be done, but Soris stood firm. Soris was always a timid child. He avoided confrontation at all costs, and if talking failed, the elf could run faster than anyone Domenic had known. Now here he was, ready to break into a palace, and take part in something that could very well cost him his life.

Domenic put his hand on his little cousin's shoulder. "Soris. You're not ready for this. This could go bad real fast and I don't want you to get hurt".

"You can't do this alone, cousin. I know you're always trying to protect me, but I'm going". The red haired elf answered with a strength only Domenic knew he had. He smiled lightly as he patted his shoulder roughly.

"If you're caught, there will be no talking your way out of it. You are going to need weapons". A deep voice rumbled behind them. Duncan had finally spoken up, and all of Domenic's anger returned in a wave.

"We need nothing from you, shem!" This time Domenic did spit.

"Where do you think you received that healing potion from, child?" Valendrian replied with steel in his voice. Realization flashed across the dark elf's face as stared at the large human.

"That little knife you carry is no match for an armored guard. Allow me to offer you my own long sword and bow. A man should be able to defend his loved ones". There was understanding in the Warden's voice, a pain that only experience could bring.

"I…" Domenic was at a loss for words. Just what was this human's game? "I'm better with blades. Soris, take the bow. If things go south, stay behind me and pick off stragglers". The elf tersely replied. The timid elf with him just nodded weakly.

"I have some spare servants' uniforms. We can use them to sneak in. I'll meet you at the front gate when you're ready. Hurry, we don't have much time". Tristan was already moving, making his way to a small, rotting shed he called home.

Duncan handed Soris a longbow. It was of simple make, nothing extravagant. Soris thanked the Warden, as he and Duncan bowed to each other politely. Then it was Domenic's turn. The two looked at each other for a long moment. The elf's eyes were hard, angry, and uncertain. This shem had already done more for them than anyone had ever human had. But why? Why was he here? Duncan saw the conflict in Domenic's eyes and gave the slightest hint of a smile before handing him a long sword.

"Ah, but Adaia used two blades…" The Warden remembered, offering up a dagger as well.

"You…you knew my mother?" Everything about this shemlen was a contradiction. The blades were heavier than the elf remembered, and Domenic had to adjust the weapons a few times to familiarize himself with the weight. Despite all the shems he had killed in his life, Domenic had never held anything larger than a knife. Now, going to war, with the Arl's son…the swords in the dark elf's hands began to tremble. He told Soris not too long ago that he wasn't ready for what was to come, but was he?

"Yes, a long time ago…be calm, young Tabris. Only you can do what needs to be done". Duncan put a hand on the elf's shoulder. Just the touch of a human jerked Domenic from his doubts.

"Don't touch me, shem. I know what I have to do".

"Then your path is set". Valendrian told the youths before sending them on their way. "I pray the Maker looks on it with favor".

"Yeah, because he's done a bang up job so far…" the elf muttered, rolling his eyes. "Speaking of whom, where did Mother Bohann go?"

"I'm afraid she became a bit uncomfortable after that…fiend took the women". Valendrian struggled to find a word to describe the noble without being vulgar. With Duncan gone, she was the only human still around. I escorted her out of the Alienage on my way to the guard to make an official report…they've yet to respond". The elder replied in a defeated tone.

"And let me guess, the shem priest ran right back to the Chantry, locking the doors behind her".

"Please child, now is not the time for this". Valendrian sighed. In other words, yes. Just like the rest of them. The moment she got a real taste of elven life, she scurried off where her Maker would conveniently ignore the prayers and cries of his people. Domenic scoffed scornfully.

Soris put a comforting hand on Domenic's shoulder. The two elves nodded to one another, and made their way to the Alienage gates to meet Tristan. The darker elf stood next to a wooden crate, and threw two garish looking yellow uniforms to them. "Here, put these on. It will get you into the palace".

Domenic and Soris both hurried to put on the bright yellow servant's clothing. Domenic was larger than your average elf, and the old uniform clung tightly to his body. That was to be expected among servants though. Elves rarely got clothes that fit, let alone clean ones. Soris held his arms out to the side for all to see. "I feel like a dandelion".

"Don't worry cousin, I won't let anyone pick your peddles". Laughed the scarred elf. "What's with the box, Tristan?"

"Something to carry your weapons in until we get to the palace. Any humans see you carrying those will kill you on sight". The elf looked around nervously. "Are you ready yet?"

* * *

The three elves made their way through the market, and to the palace of the Arl with no problems. Humans tend to ignore elves when they avoid eye contact and don't touch them. The knots in both Domenic and Soris' stomach tightened with each step until finally, they arrived. The trio reached the back entrance, where the servants could go in and out without being spotted by the Arl's guests and visitors. A lone guard stood at the small gated hole in the palace wall. With a lazy yawn he scratched his armpit through his old chainmail armor, eyeing the elves with disdain.

"Greetings, ser". Tristan meekly replied as he lowered his eyes and walked inside, his back hunched in a submissive posture. Reluctantly Domenic and Soris followed suite, everything in the angry youth screamed at just taking that weak posture. For the women inside, Domenic swallowed his pride and moved forth. Once inside the wall both elves unfamiliar with the palace stopped and stared in awe. Immaculately manicured lawns and rose gardens were scattered through the massive court yard. Perfectly symmetrical stones outlined these gardens. Trees, lush and greener than Domenic had ever seen, were placed strategically throughout to provide shade in the harsh Ferelden summers. In stark contrast to the gardens was the outer wall. Impossibly thick, it seemed as tall as the Vhendral. The wall, much like the buildings inside, was made of stone and mortar. Meant to withstand anything man or nature could throw at it. Small thin windows appeared sporadically in the buildings inside. While the exterior of the Arl's palace was as dark and foreboding, in this garden offered a warmth and peace you wouldn't find in many places in Ferelden. Domenic had to wonder just how many elves worked, suffered and died building this thing.

Too many.

"So this is how the other half lives…." Soris exhaled. A small, well walked trail was laid in the grass for servants to follow.

"This path will lead us to the pantry. Keep your head down and follow me". Tristan offered in hushed tones. Domenic and Soris just nodded, picked up their heavy crate, and followed the young elf ahead of them. Random guards on patrol passed the elves without even looking in their direction, ignoring them as if they were trash. For once, human bigotry was working in their favor. Rounding a corner, a lone guard came into view, sitting on a stone bench in the garden. Taking the final swig from his flask, the off duty officer grunted as he threw the leather pouch in front of them in disgust.

"You, elf!" burped the drunkard. "Pick that up an' bring it back 'ere". The three stopped for only a moment before Tristan ran up, recovered the flask, and handed it back to the guard who snatched it away with a sneer. Domenic and Soris continued walking, keeping their heads down as they did so. A human foot lashed out catching underneath Soris', tripping the pale elf. With a crash he landed on top of the weapon's crate he and Domenic were carrying. The human snorted, laughing as Soris groaned, the wind being knocked out of him.

"Limp wristed knife-ears". He laughed, swaying as he stood. Domenic rushed to his cousin's side, helping him stand. Looking down on the two elves, recognition dawned in blurry red eyes. "I know you…" He was one of the many guards involved in the raid on the Alienage, an off duty Denerim officer. Drunk and angry he would not get to partake in the spoils. Quickly Domenic sprung to his feet, and threw a swift kick to the officer's groin. Immediately the human buckled over, grabbing his privates. The dark elf jumped forward, putting the man's head underneath his armpit and his arm around the human's throat. Joining both hands for leverage, Domenic jerked back, and sharp crack echoed in the courtyard. Breathing heavily, Domenic let the man go. With a trickle of blood running from his mouth, the human slumped against the ground. Quickly the elf leaned him against the stone bench he was originally sitting on, placing the flask back in his hands.

"Domenic…" his cousin could only whisper.

"There's no going back". He replied in hushed tones. No matter what happened now, they were marked men. "With any luck they'll think he's just drunk, and will buy us enough time to get the women and leave".

No more guards bothered the team as they approached the servant's entrance to the palace. "This is it". Breathed the twitchy elf who led them. "Vaughan's probably taken the women to his private quarters in the back".

"Anything we should know before we go?" Domenic whispered back.

"There's one guard at the entrance, but he's usually either drunk or asleep. If you're quiet enough you can sneak past him. And don't expect every elf you see to be on your side. A fair bit of them would sell you out just to get a pat on the head from the shems…" Tristan's eyes hardened with distain.

"Got it, thanks Tristan. Stay here, and stay out of sight. I don't want you getting caught up in what's about to happen. We'll meet you back here soon". Tristan opened his mouth to say something before Soris cut in.

"We need someone here to take care of the girls. If we find stragglers we can send them out this way to you".

Tristan thought it over, and though he wasn't thrilled to be left behind, the thought of armed guards chasing him chilled his blood. He nodded quickly, agreeing to the plan. Domenic extended his hand, and the elf grabbed his forearm. Domenic did the same, and shook the elf's arm in farewell, neither saying a word. Soris opened the crate they had carried all this way, and handed Domenic the long sword and dagger. The red-haired elf equipped the long bow Duncan had provided, and Tristan pretended to be tending to the grass outside the door, trying not to draw suspicion. Domenic sheathed the blades on his waist, and quickly the two grooms opened the small wooden door, entering the Arl's palace to face what was to come.

The first room Domenic and Soris entered was a massive stone foyer. With grand wood pillars supporting granite walls, the marble floor, polished and almost shined in the pale glow of the randomly placed torches along the walls. The sound of heavy snoring filled the room as both elves saw exactly what Tristan had described earlier. A drunken shemlen sat on a small wooden stool, leaning against the wall as a small trail of drool came from the corner of his mouth. Soris could only look at his cousin and shake his head with a snicker as the two approached the snoring man. Slowly Domenic pulled put his hunting knife against the man's jugular. The human's eyes flew open as blood slowly appeared from under the knife's edge and before he could scream the elf had his free hand over the guard's mouth. Domenic's ebony eyes burned with a cold rage as he bore into the sleep riddled guard. "Are the women back in Vaughan's chambers?" A hurried nod from the guard answered his question. "Good". And with a swift motion, the knife dug deep into the guard's throat as it slid from ear to ear. With a sickening gargle the man held his throat and fell to his knees, his life blood flowing from in between his fingertips as he fell to the ground at Domenic's feet.

"Maker! You killed him! He was helpless, Dom!" The red-haired elf took a step back, his pale features turning a shade lighter.

"What was I supposed to do, Soris? Just tie him up and hope for the best? One guard already lay dead outside, and we WILL have to kill more if we are going to make it out of here".

"I suppose your right, but…that was cold, cousin".

Domenic bent down, taking the guards coin purse and wiping his blade off on the fallen man's clothes. "Think about it this way. Would he have hesitated, even for a second, to kill you?"

"I suppose not. Let's just get the women and get out of here…" Soris opened the door behind the slain man to a massive kitchen, larger than either of them had ever seen. It was a room large enough to fit five families, with a large stone oven that burned brightly in the back. A half dozen sacks of flour, and potatoes sat piled in the corner next to a large cutting board with a hacked up wild boar. The smell of fresh stew and venison stopped Domenic and Soris in their tracks. Fruits and vegetables were in separate baskets, strawberries and apples freshly picked were just lying on a nearby table. Without thinking Soris moved snatched an apple, biting into it with a moan of pleasure.

"Oi! Get your bleedin' dirty hands off that, you filthy knife-eared bastard!" A gruff voice came from behind pillar in the center of the room. Soris, his mouth still full, turned around quickly to see a man wearing a leather apron and a surly disposition approach. "The last knife-ears I caught sampling the food ended up being chased out of here by a hungry mabari. I don't think your thin lil' legs are going to do much better than his". He laughed cruelly at the two elves until he noticed the weapons. Domenic's eyes had already gone flat, and moved towards the cook with purpose. Out of the corner of his scarred eye, the dark elf saw movement. "Yer bandits, rebels! Don't know where you got a sword, knife-ears, but the guard will make quick work of your sorry a…" The cook never finished his threat as a meat cliver hacked into the base of his skull, dropping the man where he stood. Behind him stood a young elf, his hands shaking in anger as he spit on the dead human.

"You have no idea how long that shem's had it coming". The young elf's clothes hung loosely on his body. For one who worked in a kitchen, it seemed as if he hadn't eaten in a week.

"Have you seen a group of elven women, are they alright?" Soris asked nervously.

"The girls you're looking for are in the very back of the palace. Vaughan has a…special room to entertain his guests".

"Thanks, now get out of here, you don't want to get caught up in this!" Domenic warned the youth.

"You don't have to tell me twice. Hurry, and Maker bless you". He said before bolting out of the door, past the dead sentry and out the servants exit.

"If the Maker was with us, we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with…" Domenic turned around, not looking as he muttered to his cousin and opened the side door; walking directly into four guards sitting around a large square table in the middle of a game of Alouette.

"What in Andraste's knickers…" One off duty guard rose, fumbling for his sword as he stared at the blood soaked elf in front of him. A look of wide eyed surprise was etched on Domenic's features as he took in the situation, his lips pursed together.

"Deal me in?" He said with a shrug before reaching for his trusty 'murder knife'. The sound of steel being drawn filled the room. With a quick flick of his wrist, Domenic's knife flipped end over end, imbedding itself in the first man's throat. Angry screams soon followed as Soris notched his borrowed bow and fired, his arrow missing terribly as it bounced off the stone walls. The young elf's hands were shaking as he cursed and tried to notch another bolt, only to have it slip from his fingers and clatter against the floor. By this time, the remaining humans found their wits and moved. Domenic drew his borrowed blades just in time to see a greatsword arcing down towards his unprotected head. The human laughed. Elves were weak and cowardly. One or two swings of his blade and they'd break, running for cover. The scarred elf lifted the two blades overhead in a crossed formation, catching the massive blade in between. Disbelief ran through wide eyes as all three humans stopped and stared at this elf before them. No stick-thin elf should have been able to stop a greatsword already in motion. The impact should have dropped the little thief to the ground like an Antivan whore. However the elf before them was not some cutpurse, hiding in the corners begging for scraps. He had strength. He had pride, he would confront his enemies head on.

Domenic Tabris was a warrior.

Strength born of fear and rage surged through his muscles. With a grunt Domenic pushed up, causing the large human facing him to lose his balance as the greatsword was pushed back over his head. In that moment, the elf darted inside, slicing the guard's belly open with the dagger he had been given. The off duty officer dropped to his knees, trying to keep his innards in one place before toppling over. The two remaining guards attacked at the same time as curses flooded the dining hall. The elf used his natural born grace and agility to dodge and parry the best he could, but was unable to find any time or openings to attack. A hard thumping sound dully echoed as one of the guards eyes rolled into the back of his head and collapsed. The shaft of an arrow stuck out of the back of his head. With methodical coldness Domenic advanced on the surviving guard.

To the uninitiated, or drunk and foolhardy fighter, when a man is wielding two blades, you keep an eye on the sword. To a trained warrior, the sword is more of a shield, a decoy. The dagger is the killing blade. This lesson the guard soon discovered as Domenic parried a thrust with the borrowed sword. In one fluent motion the elf reversed the dagger in his hand and stepped in. He brought the dagger up, slitting the man's sword wielding wrist. He flinched in pain as his sword clanged loudly against the ground. Following through with his attack Domenic stepped in with the dagger, driving it deep into the human's heart. Weakly the human clung to the stone faced elf, sliding down to the cold marble floor. The two elves looked at each other, Soris shaking visibly.

"Maker…I killed him…" His pale complexion took on a greenish tint. Domenic approached his cousin, putting a blood covered hand on his arm.

"If you hadn't, I would have died. I don't know if I could have taken the both of them. Thank you, Soris". He squeezed his cousin's arm. "Shianni needs us. We have to keep moving". The red-haired elf nodded in agreement, and after retrieving his hunting knife from the guard's throat, the two elves went to save their families.

"I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that the Arl took most of his men to Ostagar" Soris whispered as the two snuck through an empty hallway. "We haven't run into anyone else since the dining hall! With any luck we can get the girls and leave without any more violence". He was hopelessly optimistic. Domenic said nothing as the two of them cracked open a large wooden door leading further back into the palace. It was an adjoining room, with little furnishing. However an extravagant carpet was sprawled out in the middle…along with a young elven girl. Three armored guards stood around her as the blood pooled around her body. From the gash in her chest, both Domenic and Soris knew she was gone.

"Well, that's one less elf breeder in the world". One stated with a look of satisfaction.

"It's a shame though. Nice body on this one". A guard kneeled, lifting her dress and inspecting the body.

"Eh, body's probably still warm. Just how picky are you anywa…." The third guard never finished his sentence as an almost primal roar came from behind them. The two standing turned just in time to see the braided elf jump in between them, a blade in each hand. With a swift motion, Domenic slit both of their throats in mid leap. He knew the young girl on the ground. Nola. Tormey's daughter. A good girl, fervent believer in the Maker. Wanted to join the Chantry, if elves were allowed to do even that. And now here she lay, at the feet of three shems who would violate her corpse. The world was in a daze to Domenic as he whirled around, driving his sword into the gut of the human's throat he had slit, pushing him into the kneeling guard. He toppled under the weight of his dying supervisor. Quickly the guard tried to scramble from under the lieutenant. It was too late. Domenic's teeth were bared in a savage snarl and he screamed his hate, driving the sword repeatedly into the crawling guards back.

"I'll kill them. I'll kill them all…" He said to himself, his breathing heavy. He looked back at Soris, who took a step away from his cousin. He had known Domenic was angry. He was always hateful of the humans after his mother died. But it was a cold, calculated hate. This was something else. Domenic's ebony eyes burned with fire. His teeth clinched together. He was acting like an animal. Domenic didn't even bother to talk to Soris as he opened the next door, to another small hallway and a human standing guard. He stood no chance as the dark elf roared, slashing into him several times before he could react.

They all fell before him and Soris. Every human that dared show his face. Even the mabari hounds they kept. All died screaming before Domenic's relentless attacks and Soris' arrows. The only one who slowed the enraged duo down was Vaughan's personal bodyguard. The fully armored man stood in front of a large doorway, holding a vicious looking spiked mace and large shield. Coated in thick red chainmail, he walked slowly, with purpose, towards the murderous elf charging at him. With a howl Domenic leapt in the air, brining both sword and dagger down with all the force he could muster. The human brought his shield arm up, catching both blades against it. Instead of stopping the blow outright, the guard deflected the attack, flowing with it and letting the blades fall harmlessly to the right. A large mace followed soon after, grazing the elf on the back as he rolled underneath the blow. Blood oozed from the scrape marks in Domenic's back. Not feeling the blow, the elf continued his relentless assault, hacking and slashing with no regard to his life. Soris stayed back, trying to get a clean shot. However his cousin leapt and bounced all over, attempting to get past his enemy's guard. Lining up a clean shot was all but impossible. The two dueling warriors clashed against each other repeatedly. Their battle seemed to go on for an eternity. The elf was attacking with all of his strength, holding nothing back in each of his thrusts. Meanwhile the guard was forced to admit that the elf's blows were numbing his arm, his strength far more than he would have anticipated. The soldier was also fighting in full armor. Fatigue was taking its hold on them both.

The rage fueling him during the fight was fading, his muscles feeling sluggish. Slowly the world began to come back into focus. The cold, analytical side of Domenic's mind sharpened. He watched as the guard's became slow and sloppy. As he swung his mace, he was rotating his body further and further. The elf feigned to the right, where the guard rotated his shield to block the incoming attack. Domenic's dagger bounced harmlessly off the scratched and dented steel. The moment the dagger connected Vaughan's guard made a vertical swipe. That was the moment Domenic was waiting for. The elf arched his back and brought the dagger up with all his strength. The mace grazed his skull as the blade slid through the guard's chainmail. Domenic was rewarded by a howl of pain. The dagger was hilt deep in the guard's tricep, severing flesh and bone. The elf then swung low, torquing his body and swinging the sword into the injured man's left leg. A spray of crimson let Domenic know the blow was solid. The guard's knee buckled, and before the man even hit the ground, Domenic's dagger found its way into the eye slot in his helm. With the human dead at his feet, Domenic dropped to his knees. Sweat and blood poured off the elf's brow. The pain of a dozen battles came back to him as he noticed the various cuts, bruises and blows. Funny, he didn't even remember them happening.

Soris knelt down and tore a long strip of cloth from his servant's disguise, wrapping the yellow fabric around his cousin's bleeding scalp. "How did you do that?" The young elf asked. Domenic just looked at his blankly as Soris jerked the makeshift bandage tight. "You cut them to pieces and just kept moving. You fought like you were possessed or something!"

"I don't know…" Domenic groaned as he stood. The muscles in his body screamed for him to stay down. "After Nola, all I just lost it. All I saw was red. I don't even know where we are!" That was the part that scared the young elf the most. Killing shemlen, he lived for that. However, to not remember what happened or how he got there, that scared Domenic more than he cared to admit.

"Well, we are at the last couple of rooms in the palace. Hopefully we aren't too late! You ready?" Domenic only nodded as Soris opened the door leading down yet another long hallway. All was quiet as the two slowly crept through the hall to a large wooden door. The pale elf gasped as he opened the door swung open.

* * *

On the hard stone floor lay Shianni, her bridesmaid dress torn to shreds. Her nose lay flat against her cheek, broken by what must have been a hard blow. The two swollen circles under her eyes confirmed it. Blood and other fluids covered the once beautiful elven girl's face as Lord Braden quickly pulled up his trousers at the sound of the door opening. It appeared that he had just 'finished'. Shianni quickly scurried to a corner of the room to vomit, blood was smeared on the bottom half of her gown. Vaughan and his cronies were not gentle when they violated the young elf. Vaughan leapt from a large wooden chair as Domenic and Soris walked into the room, slowly taking in the horror of what had happened to their cousin. Jonaley had just put his weapon back in his pants as well. Both nobles stunned by the sight of the two elves. Both nobles annoyed that their show had been interrupted.

"Blasted knife-ears!" Jonaley exploded. "I was up again! Stand still so I can gut you and get mine!" Lust and irritation gave him confidence as the noble reached for a short sword.

"Silence, you fool!" Vaughan roared, stopping the Jonaley in his tracks. "These two are covered in enough blood to fill a tub. Now use your other head and tell me what that means….". Domenic raised his blades, and began to move towards the humans, the red rage building inside of him. "Now hold on, let's not be too hasty. Surely we can talk this over". Soris' face was just as hard as his cousins as he notched another arrow into the bow. "You're skilled, far too skilled to be just another elf!" Vaughan spoke quickly, trying to keep control.

"You might just manage to kill me, but what do you think my father will do to your pretty little Alienage when he returns. It will burn. He will Purge every last elf in Denerim". That stopped the dark elf in his tracks. Although Arl Urien would not kill every elf in Denerim, after all the shems still needed their slaves, Domenic had no doubt the full force of Denerim's guard would storm the Alienage and kill every elf they could get their hands on. No weapons, no defenses, the elves would be helpless against the slaughter. It was one of the many ways the humans kept the elves under their heel, the constant threat of another purge. Domenic wanted to kill Vaughan so badly the weapons in his hands shook. Summoning all his self control, the elf took a deep breath.

"Speak".

"Leave Denerim, right now, with forty sovereigns added to your purses. There will be no repercussions for what happened here today, and you're free to go wherever you like". Domenic and Soris both stopped and stared, losing themselves in the thought of forty sovereigns. Most HUMANS would never see that much money! A whimper in the corner of the room caught the two elves attention.

"Soris, Domenic…please….don't let them touch me again". Shianni coughed, breathing through her mouth. The sight of Shianni instantly brought Domenic back. Only a shemlen would think that money could buy ones soul. The only thing holding him back from attacking was Soris. The young elf was wise, wiser than his hateful cousin. The red haired elf was working to get all of them out of here alive, and Domenic was willing to give him the chance.

"What about the elf-maidens? Will you let them go?" Soris asked, torn. He knew as well as Domenic what a purge would mean, and what forty sovereigns could get them.

"The women stay, and can go home tomorrow". Vaughan answered. Both nobles behind him sneered at Shianni, causing her to flinch and try to move even further back.

"Even now, with your life in the balance, that's all you can think about?!" Soris asked. He couldn't believe this shem's priorities. "Let the women go, and we will leave Denerim right now, you can get your blasted coin!" Domenic may not have shown it, but he was impressed by the steel and resolve in his cousin.

"That's the deal, you little runt. Take it or leave it, but know that whatever happens next is on your heads". The threat oozed from Vaughan's lips, causing Soris to flinch slightly.

"Braden". Domenic called. He had remained silent through the entire conversation, and all eyes turned to him. "Remember what I told you the first time we met?" The noble eyes darted from left to right, unsure of what the elf meant. With all his strength Domenic hurled the dagger, sending the blade flipping end over end. With a sickening thump the dagger took the distracted noble in the face, burying the blade to the cross guard. Braden's head snapped back, slamming into the back wall, creating a bloody streak as he fell.

Vaughan was already moving, pulling a decorative sword from a wall plaque. "Well, I hope that was worth it you miserable knife-eared wretch. Because you, your family, and everything you've ever known will die". Domenic said nothing. No matter what, it would end here. He had known shemlen like Vaughan all his life. He was never going to let Soris and him just walk out of Denerim. He was still going to rape, and probably kill Shianni and the rest. He was still going to Purge the Alienage for attempting to protect their own. And he would never stop. The two clashed in the center of the bedroom, each using their weight to force the other off balance. Gritting their teeth, the two glared at each other, Domenic in cold rage and Vaughan in smug arrogance.

In the meantime, Jonaley had closed the distance between him and Soris. Using the borrowed bow as a staff, the elf swatted at the noble. Jonaley was trying to get inside the elf's guard. The noble made an awkward thrust, one that Soris blocked by lifting the bow directly over his head, deflecting the blade high. In a swift motion Soris brought the bow down hard across Jonaley's face, knocking the noble headfirst into a nightstand. Jonaley fell to the ground with a groan and Soris turned his attention to the madman that started all of this.

The continuous fights in the Arl's palace were taking their toll on the elf. His breathing was already labored as he blocked and parried Vaughan's attacks. The noble's perpetual sneer grew with each barely blocked strike. A smooth swipe caught Domenic in the midsection. The cut was shallow, but it caused the elf to stumble back and drop to one knee, holding his bleeding stomach for a moment. Vaughan's barking laugh caught his attention, savoring his impending victory. "I only regret that you won't live to see what I'm going to do to your bride!" Domenic's eyes and scar burned with hate, looking at the human standing over him. Above the human's head, Domenic saw what appeared to be a dagger floating towards him.

"VAUGHAN!" Shianni's voice rang strong as a bottle smashed into his shoulder. The human cursed, spinning with the impact. He turned to face Shianni…and missed the dagger fall safely into Domenic's waiting hands.

"You still haven't learned your place…" the human moved towards Shianni, who was still throwing anything and everything she could find. Suddenly, Vaughan stopped, feeling a shadow looming over him. A chill ran up the human's spine. He turned and stared into dark ebony eyes, burning with cold hatred. The two squared off again and Domenic responded with renewed fire. His strikes were fast, precise and strong. Quickly Vaughan found himself being pushed back. In desperation, the noble looked behind him, hoping to find Shianni and use her as a hostage. He never got the chance.

Domenic parried a low thrust to the side, flipping the dagger into a reverse grip and spinning his back to Vaughan. The elf thrust the dagger in low. Very low. It didn't go too deep until it struck bone. The human gasped, his eyes going to his wounded crotch. With a sharp sawing motion, Domenic ripped the dagger down and out.

And just like that, Vaughan Kendell was a eunuch.

With a high pitched squeal Vaughan dropped to his knees, trying to hold what was left of his severed manhood together. All thoughts of the fight vanished from the noble's mind. He closed his eyes, praying to Andraste and the Maker that they would heal him. His prayers were not answered as the sound of metal on stone filled the room. Vaughan rocked back and forth, still praying for a miracle. A look of disbelief and terror, as well as tears filled Vaughan's eyes as shock set in. Domenic towered in front of the fallen human, as inescapable as death itself. "Look at what you've done…" Vaughan moved his hands so the elf could see that damage done. Domenic's face was cold as stone, emotionless, pitiless. Holding the long sword in a reversed grip, the elf raised the blade above his head.

"Die screaming". Slowly, deliberately Domenic pushed the sword down. Vaughan brought his hands up in front of his face, as if his palms could protect him. It only made the pain more excruciating as the elf pierced through both his hands, slowly forcing the blade past Vaughan's collar bone, and into his empty, black heart. Vaughan screamed as the blade pierced his flesh, feeling every inch of steel before the world went dark. Roughly Domenic pulled the blade from Vaughan's corpse, wiping the blade off on the back of his fancy tunic. When finished, the dark elf spit a glob of blood on his body. "For Shianni". The elf raised his eyebrow slightly, remembering an odd jingle he heard coming from Vaughan just before he died. A quick search of the dead man revealed a large sack, loaded with sovereigns. Domenic didn't know if it was the 40 that Vaughan had tried to bribe them with, but it was more than enough. "Better us than you..." he muttered to the corpse, tying the sachel to his belt.

Soris was breathing heavily, a weak smile on his face. "It's over…." Shianni ran towards her cousin, picking up Vaughan's sword as she did. The red-haired elf's eyes bulged as his cousin screamed a blood curdling wail. Soris dove to the side, and both he and Domenic saw what Shianni was after. Jonaley stood, bleeding freely from his head. His sword raised high. He expected to take this little knife-ears head off, kill the other one and escape this bloodbath a hero. What he did not expect was the psychotic wail of a she-elf charging him. With unexpected strength Shianni ran into Jonaley shoulder first, pushing him back and driving the sword deep into the human's stomach. The last noble fell flat on his back. Quickly Shianni pulled the weapon from his gut, straddled the man, and with both hands slammed the blade into his face and body repeatedly. She screamed desperately, tears running down her face as she hacked into the long dead human.

"DON'T. YOU. EVER. TOUCH. ME. AGAIN. EVER!" With each word the young maiden brought the sword down until little was left. A strong hand reached out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her off Jonaley's mangled corpse. Shianni turned around to look into the eyes of her dark cousin. Those same eyes, once filled with murderous rage, were now soft, filled with pain. He had failed her. Shianni threw herself into Domenic's chest, wailing. They both dropped to their knees, where Domenic would hold his cousin tight, his own eyes welling up.

"Go find Valora and Nesiara. I'll stay here". Domenic's voice cracked, holding back the emotions that threatened to burst through. Soundlessly Soris nodded, and went into the adjoining room to find his betrothed. "I'm sorry, Shianni. I'm so sorry…" the dark elf whispered, holding his cousin tight. The tears flowed freely now, and try as he might Domenic could not stop them. The two held each other for only a minute, trying to collect themselves.

Shianni looked at her hands, her clothes and her blood stained cousin. "There's so much blood, its everywhere…I just want to go home…" The final sentence came out in a whisper, the tears welling in her eyes again. Domenic could only nod in agreement.

"You killed them, didn't you?"Shianni asked hopefully.

"Every. Last. One of them".

Fire burned in Shianni's eyes at the thought of human's being cut down by elven blades. "Good….good". She took what pleasure she could imagining their final moments.

Slowly, as if not wanting to interrupt, Soris walked back into the room with Valora. She stopped and gasped at the death in the room, and at what had become of the fiery Shianni. "Maker…" Valora whispered.

"Maker be damned!" Domenic almost screamed. What kind of God would allow something like this, and would keep allowing it?

"Is…is she going to be alright?" Soris asked. Domenic just closed his eyes and breathed for a moment. He honestly didn't know that.

"Let's just get out of here. The smell of shemlen is making me sick".

Nesiara entered the room, holding what appeared to be another servant's uniform. "We…heard what was happening in here. I thought your cousin could use a change of clothes…" Nesiara's face was red, tears standing ready.

"Thank you". Shianni stood to retrieve the clothes, only to have her knees buckle and fall slightly. Soris was there to catch her.

"What about you, Valora, Nesiara. Are you two alright?" They looked to be fine, shaken by the events, but unharmed. However, Domenic didn't think he could handle the guilt if the two maidens suffered the same fate as Shianni.

"That pig was…saving us for later". Valora whispered, half afraid that Vaughan would rise again and finish what he started. "Shianni…she took the worst of it. She didn't beg, she didn't cry…" Valora went over to Shianni, and hugged the elf tightly. "You were so strong…" Shianni returned the hug.

"We'll help Shianni get changed". Nesiara started. "You're almost as big as a human, and I saw a suit of armor sitting in the corner. We could disguise you as guard, 'escorting' us back home once we leave the palace".

Domenic nodded. "It's a good plan. Ladies, please help Shianni. Soris, stand guard while I get this thing on. Then we are all going home".

"Thank the Maker! I can't wait to leave this place…."

The elves met up with Tristan, who was still by the servant's entrance. Quickly the elves and their 'guard' exited the Arl's palace through the same gate they got in. The studded leather armor Domenic had stolen fit well enough, but the helm crushed his pointed ears. Still, the disguise worked as the guard let them pass without as much as a second look. The human on duty chuckling as the three elven women limped their way out. Domenic wanted nothing more than to add one more dead shem to the list today. However once the guard finds out what happened in there, well, the thought of the hell he would go through brought a smile to his face. While trying to maintain the image that all was well, the group made a direct path to the large wooden gate leading home.

Domenic breathed heavily, happy he was finally home. Soris had been silent the entire walk back. He gestured for his cousin to walk a little faster, out of ear-shot of the females behind them. Nervously, the elf ran his fingers through his hair. "We did the right thing, didn't we?"

"A little late to be second guessing what happened, Soris". Domenic quickly he pulled off the leather helm, rubbing his ears.

"I guess so, but what happens now?" Domenic did not have an answer for him. The group did not make it ten steps inside the Alienage before a mob of elves, and one Grey Warden, approached them. Shianni gripped Valora's hand tightly, feeling everyone's stares on her. Valendrian finally forced his way through the crowd. All questions he had died on his lips as he saw Shianni. He looked over the group and noticed one was missing. "Where is Nola?"

An uncomfortable silence filled the area. Soris shook his head sadly while all Domenic could do was look at the floor, cursing himself for letting it happen.

Shianni spoke first. "They killed her. Nola resisted, she wouldn't let them take her, and…" The she-elf couldn't finish. Domenic looked at Shianni, his eyes wide. He had seen Nola's body before he went blank, but he didn't know she fought back. Her death struck the elf like a blow to the chest, but as much as it pained him, Domenic could not have been more proud of her.

"Maker…" He swore. "Valora, Nesiara. There are some herbs and bandages in my home. Take Shianni home and please tend to her wounds". The ladies nodded, and silently left, each one looking at Domenic and Soris as they passed. "Tell me everything that happened". Valendrian already had an idea, considering the bloodied piece of cloth wrapped around Domenic's head and the splatters on Soris' clothes; however he wanted to know exactly what to expect.

"Vaughan will never harm another elf again". The dark elf answered briefly.

"Domenic…you didn't?"

"He left us no choice!" Soris jumped in, defending their actions. "You didn't see what they did to Nola…to Shianni".

"You brats have doomed us all! The garrison will come here and kill us all over four little…" Elva bitterly screamed before being punched, hard, in the mouth by an elderly elf wearing a dirty smock.

"One of those brats, was my daughter…." Tormey answered, tears in his eyes. He gave the two young elves a nod of appreciation. Although someone helped Elva to her feet, no one attempted to restrain the grief stricken dock-hand.

"Regardless, what she said was correct. The garrison may very well be on their way". Duncan spoke up, all eyes turning to the human.

"Hahren, father…Soris and I have to leave Denerim". Domenic's shoulders sagged slightly. "They'll kill everyone here trying to get to us". The elf looked at both his elders. He would never be sorry for what he had done, however he would always regret putting his people in jeopardy. The elf could not be sure, but he was almost certain he saw Duncan's lips curl into something of a smile hearing that. Before Domenic could press the issue Soris put his hand on his cousin's shoulder.

"Too late, Dom…." The sound of steel boots filled the Alienage again, and the second platoon of soldiers in less than twelve hours marched through the mud covered streets. Soris took a few steps back, ready to run. Sudden hands grabbed him and Domenic, pulling them inside a small, crumbling storefront. Alarith, the tall strawberry blonde elf pushed them to the floor and put a finger to his mouth for them to be silent. The two elves were not about to argue.

Valendrian raised his hands for everyone to calm down. "Don't panic. Let's see just what comes of this…" The elf squared his shoulder, eyeing the fully armored garrison with a look of annoyance. Led by a bearded human, eight humans, dressed in blood red platemail stopped when confronted by the elder elf.

"I seek Valendrian, elder and administrator of the Alienage!" The human boomed to the crowd gathered. His tone brokered no resistance or backtalk. Immediately, the elder elf moved forward. Although a full foot shorter than the human officer, Valendrian looked him directly in his eyes.

"Here, Captain. I see you finally received my complaint about today's disturbance". The contempt in Valendrian's voice was apparent, and Domenic couldn't help but smile hearing his elder speak back to the shemlen.

"Do not play ignorant with me, elf". The Captain completely disregarded what Valendrian had said. "You will not prevent justice from being done here today". Domenic's mind went blank hearing his words. Justice…_JUSTICE?!_ The Captain again addressed the gathered crowd. "The Arl's son, Lord's Jonaley and Braden, as well as dozens of his personal guard, lay butchered throughout the palace! There is a river of blood that leads directly to this…Alienage. I want names, and I want them NOW!" It only took a second, but the look on the soldiers' faces was clear. If they did not get what they were looking for, the entire Alienage would burn. In that one second, Domenic drew his swords and kicked open Alarith's door.

"Justice! You want to talk about JUSTICE!? Where was your justice when Vaughan stormed in here, with some of the very same men behind you, and kidnapped four innocent elven women?!" Briefly the Captain turned around to look at his troops. More than one gave their commanding officer a guilty expression. "Where was your justice when Nola was murdered right there in the palace? Where was your justice for the dozens of elves who were raped and murdered in that very place?!"

"You wanna talk about justice, you shriveled up shem? It was me, and me alone!" Tears stood in the elf's eyes. It wasn't fair. After everything that had happened, no one cared that Vaughan was a monster in every sense of the word. No one cared what happened to elves. No one, not the guards who saw what happened, not Mother Boann, no one would take a stand and do what was right. No one cared. And Domenic was tired. So tired of seeing his people beaten and spit on. Tired of the hate, tired of the hopeless lives he and his kin were forced to endure. After all these years of fighting the shems, he was just tired. It was time for it to end. With the last of his strength, his anger, he lifted the long sword and pointed it at the Captain. Meanwhile his patrol was already circling the young elf. "So you want to take me in to face shemlen justice, fine. But know that I will carve a thousand years of justice for my people into each and every one of you!"

"You expect me to believe that just one elf did all of THAT?! We're still cleaning bits of mabari off the walls!" The Captain scoffed in disbelief.

"We are not all so helpless, _Captain_". Valendrian answered. There was a fire in the Hahren's eyes. Dozens of elves began closing in, holding whatever weaponry they could find. Something in Domenic's speech resounded with the people of the Alienage. Apparently Domenic was not the only one who was tired. The guard was hesitant to move against the dual wielding elf, who stood waiting for the first shem to make that mistake. The guard captain was about to give the word when Duncan's voice again cut through the chaos.

"Excuse me, Captain". The Grey Warden politely interrupted. The officer nodded for the human to continue. "I hereby invoke the Warden's Right of Conscription. I shall remove this prisoner into my custody". Indignation flashed across the Captain's face. He was not going to lose this murderer to the Grey Wardens! He again almost gave the order when he noticed the situation. Hatred burned in the eyes of the surrounding elves, many of them holding some sort of weapon, whether it be a piece of wood to the feces of a stray dog. And then there was Domenic, who stood poised to kill the first guard that came near. The officer had no doubt he would lose more than a few good men before the elf dropped. Lastly, he noticed the gates to the Alienage were still open. Should this riot make it past him, it would spill into the streets of Denerim. The Captain had no idea, or concern about what happened in the Alienage just a few hours ago, but it was clear that the elves of Denerim had had enough. Warden had offered him a way out of what could be a disaster, one he felt he had to take.

"Very well, Warden." He sighed, a bit too melodramatically. "But get this elf out of Denerim, TODAY". No more words were spoken, but the Captain nodded his thanks to the Warden as he left. Both men knew that the Grey Warden had probably saved his life, or at the very least his career by doing so. With a wave of his hand, the soldiers sheathed their weapons, and followed suite out of the elven ghetto. Some audibly moaning in discontent, others breathing a heavy sigh of relief. As the last soldier left a resounding cheer erupted from behind the large wooden gate. Domenic's swords fell to the ground and the elf dropped to his knees before being surrounded by a mass of cheering elves. Exhaustion, gratitude, and joy flooded through the young elf. He couldn't help but laugh weakly. They had done it! They had broken into the seat of power in Denerim, killed a man who had been torturing, raping and murdering elves for Maker knows how long, and have lived to tell the tale! Soris was by his cousin's side, lifting him to his feet as the two hugged joyously. Cyrion forced his way to his son at a slow and stately pace. The three of them looked at each other for only a moment before the elder elf grabbed them both, roughly pulling them into an embrace. The celebration was so joyous that humans passing by the gates had to stop to stare for just a moment, wondering what would bring the elves such joy. The cheering simmered down as the grim faced human walked forward. Every elf turned to the Grey Warden. The smile on the dark elf's face slowly vanished as he approached. For one of the few times in Domenic's life, he was speechless. This human had done much for them, more than anyone ever had. He treated them with respect, kindness, compassion. Domenic's mouth went dry as he opened his mouth to speak. He was about to do say something he never dreamed he would to a shemlen.

"Duncan, I…..Thank…." He never got the chance to finish. With cold authority the Warden cut him off in mid sentence.

"You're with me now. Say your goodbyes and see me when you're ready. We leave immediately". The compassion the Warden had shown earlier was gone, all humanity. All that was there, was the Grey Warden and the duty that drove them.

"Wait a minute…but…"

"I did not do this for your benefit". Duncan again cut him off. "I needed a Grey Warden, and I found one. Get your things. Your life here, is over".

The realization of what the Grey Warden was saying hit him almost as hard has the bodyguard's mace. "_ I did not do this for your benefit. Your life here, is over"._ Those two phrases played over and over again in Domenic's mind until he exploded.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, you damned shem! Join your brothers and get the Void out of the Alienage!" The elf's rage returned in a fury of indignation. Once again a human thought of him and his people as toys; something that can be bought, bartered for, or stolen.

"You can either come with me, or you can go with the garrison". Duncan stated with cold practicality.

"So you 'save my life' just to throw me to the darkspawn?" Domenic had picked up the weapons Duncan had loaned him and held them position. "I'll tell you exactly what I told them, shem. You wanna take me, it's going to cost you". Pain shot through the back of the elf's head. He stumbled forward before turning sharply, swords at the ready. The blades instantly lowered when he saw who struck him.

Cyrion stood behind his son, his fist clinched and knuckles bloody from striking his son. A look of overwhelming disappointment was in his grey eyes. "You shame all of us acting like this". Rarely Cyrion spoke with such emotion, and never had he lashed out at his rebellious son. "The Grey Warden has saved your live, and probably all of ours with his actions this day".

"You will honor his wishes, and you will repay the debt!" Cyrion approached his son, his anger fading. He put a hand on Domenic's shoulder. "If this is what you've been called for, then go, and show the world that we are more than they think of us. Show the world the strength of the elves!"

The dark elf's shoulders slumped in defeat. With a reluctant sigh he lowered his head. "If that is my father's will".

"Make us proud, my son". Cyrion reached out, and again embraced his only son. "Maker watch over you". The elder Tabris left the gathering with a brave, proud front. Elves patted him on the back as he passed, proud of him and his son. The moment he walked into the small building that he and Domenic used to call home, the old elf dropped to his knees. Curling into the fetal position, Cyrion wept like a broken child.

"I will be by the gate. Don't be long". Without waiting so much as a reply, the Warden left Domenic with his people. Some put their hands on the elf's back, wishing him good luck, others cursing him good riddance. Finally he and his favorite cousin crossed paths.

"You. Are my hero". Soris started. "I've never seen anything like what you pulled in the palace. And when the guards got here, you looked like you were ready to cut them all down!"

"A lot of good it did…are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I can't believe you took the heat for all of that. You could have just stayed silent. No one would have said anything".

Domenic scoffed. "Yeah, and then Vaughan would have been right. They would purge the entire Alienage. Couldn't let that happen".

"I don't think you realized it" Soris voice got lower. "But the entire Alienage was ready to join you. You united all of us, in an instant! I think that was part of the reason the Captain backed down. He knows we aren't going to sit by and take it anymore. You did that, cousin. You gave us strength. Thank you". The two heroes of the Alienage shook hands. "You're going to see Shianni before you leave right?" Domenic's silence spoke volumes. Seeing her again, and knowing that he failed to protect yet another member of his family. The guilt was crushing. "Go. It'll break her heart if you don't".

* * *

Domenic sighed as he knocked on Valendrian's door. Raiding the Arl's palace was nothing compared to the apprehension he was feeling now. Valora swung the door open wide and jumped into the elf's arms. "Domenic! You came!" She smiled, dragging him inside and already greeting him like family. "Thank you so much. For everything. We'll never forget what you did for Soris and us".

The scarred elf smiled. "Just take care of him. He's fragile you know".

"You know, when I first met Soris, I thought he was a little…mousey". The fact this large eared elf called his cousin 'mousey' caused him to burst into laughter. He couldn't help but agree. "But there is a lot more to him than people think. I'll take care of him Domenic. I swear it."

"Good, now where is Nesiara and Shianni?"

"Right here…" the beautiful blonde elf said in a small doorway. "We heard everything. You're leaving, aren't you". It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah, I'm sorry Nesiara".

"For what? For saving our lives? Don't be". A look of regret did flash across the elven maiden's face. "I guess we'll never know what could have been…"

"It would have been amazing". Domenic agreed. "What will you do now?"

"I'll be heading back to Highever. No real reason for me to stay now…Shianni is doing better. You can see her now if you want." She moved closer to the elf, and tentatively kissed his lips. It was a soft kiss, but one that offered the taste of what might have been a wonderful future together. She pulled back, sighing. A light blush rose in her cheeks. "Amazing indeed. Goodbye, Domenic". Valora and Nesiara both met at the front door to give Domenic and Shianni some privacy. The blonde elf only looking back once as the door closed behind her. Domenic took a deep breath and entered Valendrian's bedroom.

Large dark bags still hung under the red-haired elf's eyes. Her nose had been set. She was in her normal attire, the servant's uniform lay in the corner with dried blood caked to them. Just seeing her again struck Domenic like a blow. The remindure of what his failure had cost her. Despite her appearance, Shianni's eyes were strong, and her smile as bright as ever. "I can't believe you did that…." With a groan the elf got out of the small bed, walking towards her cousin. "You took all the responsibility, just like that…"

Domenic couldn't make eye contact. "I only did what I had to. How…are you?" He groaned inwardly. What kind of stupid question was that?!

"I'm alright Dom. As far as the others know, Vaughan just roughed me up a bit. The girls will keep my secret as long as you and Soris do, and I refuse to be treated like some fragile thing". There was the strength that Domenic remembered.

"I'm so sorry Shianni…" Domenic said again, doing his best not to let the guilt get to him. A gentle hand touched his chin. Shianni moved his head so she could look him in the eyes.

"Stop apologizing. You did everything you could, and it would have been much, much worse if you didn't come when you did. You were like something out of a storybook. There you were, when the world was at its darkest, with steel in your hand and fire in your eyes. The stuff of legends. We're not going to have to make up stories for Amethyne and the other kids anymore. They have a hero right here". She wrapped her arms around Domenic's neck, and the two held each other tight. "I love you, cousin".

"I love you too, Shianni". This time Domenic did not cry. Shianni would survive. Just like his people, she was strong. She would not break. The elf left Valendrian's home to find the village elder waiting.

"It appears Duncan got his Grey Warden after all..." Domenic could only sigh in agreement before reaching for the satchel on his belt. Juggling the bag in his hand twice to feel the weight one last time. Carefully and out of sight he handed the satchel to the elder. Valendrian's eyes bulged in disbelief when he opened the bag. "How..."

"Use it wisely, elder. Keep them safe". The elf stopped and gazed at his home one last time, feeling as if he would never see it again, before saying goodbye to the others in the village and making his way to the gate the Grey Warden was waiting at. The old hatred returned in a flash, at the human who sought to enslave him. Domenic drew the borrowed weapons, and flipped them both over in his hands, returning them to the human. With a stoic expression the Warden raised his hand, motioning for him to stop.

"Keep them. You will need them in the battles to come".

"No shem would ever let an elf carry a weapon. I'll be hung the moment we leave the Alienage". Domenic added with venom.

"You are no longer an elf, or a member of the Alienage. You are a Grey Warden. Remember that. Come, we have to get a few of our collegues from the Gnarled Noble, and then make haste to Ostagar. I pray we are not too late".

"Whatever shem, let's just get this over with". And with that, Domenic said goodbye to his old life, and with a human he hated more than life itself, left the only place he had ever called home.

**This was an incredibly dark chapter to write, and probably the longest thing I have ever written. To those reading I hope you enjoyed. Writing two weapon combat is difficult for me, but I hope it flowed well. I always hated Duncan. I know he has a reason for the things he does, but man, he's an asshole. Also had to give Shianni a little payback, the way she just whimpered in game seemed a little out of character. My first playthrough, when I heard the guard captain talking about justice, I almost lost it. Had to get my rant in about that here, and I think it played out pretty well. Stay tuned next chapter to meet the rest of the warden recruits.**


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